The Everlasting Stars
by DaNoseKnows
Summary: G1. TF:TM "Why?" His voice cutting the silence like a steel knife. Jazz looked at Bluestreak, surprised for the first time that he talked. "Huh?" "Why did it had to be Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, his sad optics meeting his.


_Summary: A week after the battle of Autobot City, Jazz and Bluestreak share their thoughts under the stars. Bluestreak learns a lesson. _

_Warnings: word slag._

**The Everlasting Stars**

Jazz woke up from recharge uncomfortably. He didn't know why though, so he thought nothing of it and tried to returned to recharge, keyword being _tried_. He frowned as he failed to go back to recharge. He finally sighed and sat up, grumbling as he checked his chronometer to check the time. He groaned and shook his head as he stood up. He left his quarters and went down the empty hallway, knowing that nobody will be up at this time of night. He entered the recreation room and headed towards the energon dispenser and got a cube. After getting his cube, Jazz sat down on a mech-sized couch and sipped his cube happily as he pondered all that had happened this week.

Jazz winced inwardly as he thought of the big battle that had taken place only a week ago. It still hurt to think about it, since the wound was still fresh. Everyone that died… It just happened so fast. It wasn't fair that they had died. They should be here, and _alive_, not dead. If only they had known. They _should _have known. The decepticons were quieter than glitch mice. They should have known they would attack at any moment. That they were _planning _something. If only Prime hadn't sent Ratchet, Prowl, Ironhide, and Brawn to get energon. If only, if only.

Jazz shook his head. There's no point in thinking about the past. It was the past, and there's no changing it. Jazz subspaced his still full cube and exited the recreation room. He stopped next to a door. Ever since the decepticons slagged Autobot City to the Pit, everyone was to sleep in a building that the government was happy to loan until they can rebuild it.

The room Jazz was currently standing adjacent to is Bluestreaks'. Nobody had heard from him ever since they found Prowl and the others dead. Bluestreak took it harder than anyone, Jazz knew. He was always close to Prowl, so his death must have hit him right in the spark. Jazz can't imagine the pain he was feeling now. Sure, it hurt to know that Prowl and the others won't be there anymore, but Blue didn't know that. He was still young and childish. Sometimes, Jazz wanted to go back and change that messed up piece in time, only to see Bluestreak smile and non-stop babbling, like old times. It was only a matter of time before Bluestreak broke. Being the only survivor of Praxus was hard, but he had Prowl and Smokescreen to help keep his mental state up. Losing them both must really be beating him down.

Jazz put the code in, and was surprised when it opened. He thought it was locked, since Bluestreak didn't want to talk to anyone since the battle.

Jazz walked in slowly and looked around. The room was a mess; finished cubes laid around, a pile of datapads sat on top of a desk, and there was a stench in the air that made Jazz offline his olfactory sensors. He searched the room for Bluestreak, and when he found no sign of the grey Datsun, he exited the room.

Where's Bluestreak? He'd been stuck in his room this whole week, so why would he be awake in this hour? Having nothing to do and concerned about his friend, Jazz set out to look for him.

Ten minutes later, Jazz found Blue outside, his back to him, sitting on a rock, head gazing up at the bright stars. Jazz quietly moved toward the rock Bluestreak was perched on, and softly sat down next to him. When he saw no reaction from Bluestreak, he let his head hang and look up at the stars as well. They said nothing, only looking at the sparkling constellations and bright moon as they dwell on their thoughts.

After a moment of silence, Jazz let his gaze fall on Bluestreak, and spoke.

"You alright, Blue?" Jazz asked. Bluestreak didn't respond, didn't react, only kept looking at the stars.

Jazz waited patiently for Bluestreak's response. After a couple of minutes, Jazz sighed mentally and disappointedly as he got no response.

Jazz looked back up at the stars. Fidgeting for a comfortable position, he tried to find some of the constellations Spike had showed them when he was a teenager. He remembered how Prime had laughed as Spike spotted the constellation Orion, and asked to why it was called Orion.

"I don't know," Spike had said as many of the autobots tried to find the constellation, even Prime joined in to find the group of stars. "But I do know that it's a constellation, and that it's beautiful. I still remember when I was eight when Dad showed me it. And now that I see it again, it kind of brings me back to when I was young. It's kind of like a memento you won't lose. It will always be there…"

Jazz smiled at the memory. When everyone found it, they wanted to know more about constellations. They spent the whole night searching for constellations and making their own. They all laughed as the twins found a constellation that looked like an angry Ratchet, which didn't make The Hatchet happy. That joke earned them a one way ticket to the Pit as Ratchet chased them around, swinging wrenches as he cursed at them.

As Jazz found the constellation Orion, Bluestreak spoke.

"Why?" His voice cutting the silence like a steel knife.

Jazz looked at Bluestreak, surprised for the first time that he talked. "Huh?"

"Why did it had to be Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, his sad optics meeting his. It took Jazz a lot of courage and pride to not look away from his optics. They looked so lifeless and dull, opposite from the bright, cheerful optics he saw before this mess started. "Why couldn't they had just stayed alive?"

Jazz sighed. He knew how he felt. He always thought of that question ever since he found out about Prowl and the others. It pained him, but he will always move on. "Aw, Bluestreak. Sometimes, I think of that too, you know? But it was Prowl's time, Blue. It was everyone's time."

Bluestreak frowned looking back up at the gleaming stars that shined his faceplates. "But why Prowl? Why could it not be a decepticon or someone else? Why couldn't we do anything? What if we had more crew on the ship? Or what if the ship has been damaged or something? What if Prime had stopped the mission and told them to-"

Jazz interrupted, grabbing Bluestreak's shoulder plates and looking at him in the optics. "Blue, look, no matter what you do, you can't change the past, ok? You can't think of the 'What if's', it will only hurt you more. Believe me, I know. You have to move on. Prowl wouldn't want you sulking around and not talkin' to no one. It's not you. It will make him miserable just to know tha'. He would like ya ta have a happy life. He doesn't want you locked in your room, just because he died, okay?"

After a moment hesitation, Bluestreak nodded slowly. Jazz let his hand loosen but still kept them on his shoulder plates. "Just so you know, Bluestreak, you're not the only one. Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, everyone's here for you to talk to, including me. Don't hesitate to speak to _any _of us, okay?" Jazz said in a comforting manner.

Bluestreak nodded this time without hesitation. "Okay. Next time I want to let my emotions go, I'll speak to you or someone, and not lock myself in my quarters."

Satisfied, Jazz nodded as he finally let Bluestreak's shoulders go and look back up at the stars. A quick look confirmed that Bluestreak had his optics on the stars as well.

They stayed like that the whole night, looking at the stars and sometimes showing each other a constellation that reminded them of something (like a petro-rabbit, which started up a conversation about Kup and his war stories.) But they did not move until sunrise and were forced to retreated back to their quarters to get a few joors of sleep.

That afternoon, Rodimus and Ultra Magnus were surprised to see Bluestreak, up and about, chattering away with the Twins. They didn't understand the sudden mood change of their young Datsun, but they dismissed it and were just happy to see that he was healing.

**AN/:: …I can't write accents for slag…**

**After drinking hot chocolate, I thought of this up. It first started as Jazz offering Bluestreak a cup of energon, but I soon tampered, played, and pretty much chewed on it, and in came with this.**

**Constructive criticism equals love, so if you see any mistakes on this, please don't hesitate to tell me. PM me or put it on a review, and I will try to fix it up when I have time. Even if it's a small thing like 'there' should be 'their.' **

**Please don't Flame and please Review if you like.**

**~DaNoseKnows **


End file.
